F3 Fire, Rain, Love

            The fire in the pit barely made a glow on the horizon. We had all taken turns to dig it down to prevent anyone from seeing, then we laid Faenoth's remains and belongings on the fire before setting it all ablaze. We couldn't trust that Lord Strahd's servants would leave Faenoth's body in peace, so we were forced to burn our comrade down to the very dust and scatter the ashes to the winds.

Back from Boston

            I thoroughly enjoy traveling, and especially going to writing conferences. There is always some difficulty in making the adjustment back to teaching after writing. Writers have a love and appreciation of words, of putting them together just so. A precise turn of phrase is a wonderful thing, and not just how it turns out in fiction. Properly constructed non-fiction stories and essays are just as beautiful.

            So when I come back and I see so many students who see language and writing as something to be avoided, something to be feared, my heart sinks. It’s heart to watch people trample on what you love.

            My only solace is that perhaps, just maybe, I can instill the love of writing and language in one student. It’s very rare that I get more than one, which is another sadness altogether.

Poppies

            The poppy is not just a drug or a nod towards The Wizard of Oz--Poppies, poppies, poppies. The red poppy of Europe, in particular, holds special significance. Flanders Field was decimated by the war effort of World War I, but a year after the war ended, the poppies had returned, covering the damage done by what was then the greatest war the world had ever seen.

            It’s for that reason that the poppy has become a symbol of remembrance for the War. Both the American Legion and the British Royal Legion sell and distribute poppies to remember soldiers who have fallen in conflict.

            While the U.S. usually does such remembrance on Memorial Day in May, Europe celebrates Armistice Day, November 11^th, and I think it’s appropriate that people do more than vaguely celebrate the return of solderis from the front lines, but remember, specifically, the conflict from which they returned.

            American history courses and textbooks frequently overlook the importance of World War I in favor of World War II and Vietnam. But I think that World War I deserves more remembrance. It was one of the most savage conflicts that ever existed as technology had outpaced strategy. No longer were formations of soldiers effective as machine guns could mow them down. Cavalry gave way to armored tanks. And we saw the debut of chemical warfare, submarines, and landmines. Trenches spread across Europe separated by tracts of land filled with the dead and strings of barbed wire to make sure they never escaped.

            This was a war where progress was measured in yards of ground captured when it wasn’t in feet.

            I urge everyone not to forget, and perhaps to wear a poppy, and tell the story of what happened nearly a century ago.

F3 The Last Song

            The mists gathered all around, damping the sound, but Markun, Alistair, Rina, Faenoth, Windaralin, and Virgil stood ready. Faenoth raised his staff, casting off light for us to see by, but it didn't have much effect on the mists.

Baked, not Broiled

            I’m off to Boston for my second Crimebake! Time to reunite with author friends, hobnob with agents, and enjoy the culture of writers. I absolutely loved the first Crimebake I attended, and I expect to do the same with this one.

NaNo No More?

            I’m on the fence about NaNoWriMo this year. My writing has been very sporadic as I’ve been working on other projects, so it’s just hard to get back into the swing of things, especially when it comes to writing 1667 words a day. What with a writing conference and the semester’s final projects coming due in just two weeks, I feel like I’m simply stretching myself too thin.

            At the same time, I need to write.

            So I’ve signed up for NaNo, but I’m not sure if I’m actually going to finish.

            Then again, I’m not sure I can let myself not at least try to finish.

F3 Feel the Mark

            The coin tumbled slowly across the backs of my knuckles before falling off my hand altogether.

            Rina shook her head. "No, you're just going through the motions, thinking mechanically. You need to feel it. It's an art, not a bunch of steps to go through."

Masking

            As a writer, I wear a lot of masks. Tons of them, really. It’s not even limited to point of view characters. Characters develop their own quirks and so even when I’m wring one particular character’s POV, I have to take into account all of the mannerisms present from other characters present in the scene.

            For that reason, I like Halloween. I feel like the rest of the world finally gets a glimpse at what my everyday existence is like. I have a chance to—marginally—blend in with the rest of society.

Facets

            The longer I live, the more I start to explore other paths, other avenues of my personality and skills and how they all relate to one another. One of the essential truths I’ve discovered is that everything really is connected, you just need to change your perspective to find it.

            This became mostly true when I saw the connections between the life of a teacher and the life of a writer. Lessons from one skill and path applied to the other, with very little need to alter or translate the ideas.

            Though I didn’t really see it that way before, another facet has emerged, almost taking center-state in the last few months. Long unused skills at programming, at logical construction and computer language, have come back to cross the boundary between my hobby of technology to a tool that has become indispensable in teaching.

            I love finding these different facets and connecting them all together.

            I wonder what I’ll discover next.

F3 Masquerade

            I hated Halloween. Everything supernatural in the world would be out and about high on the extra power the day gave them. If I had any brains—which it was clear, I didn’t—I would be locked in my house behind consecration and armed to the teeth with silver and holy water.